Page 14 of A Fighting Chance

I mean, during our first encounter, he was in his briefs, all bare chested in front of me. And in the next, he pressed his fronts all over my fronts. And I haven’t been laid in…a while, okay. Like, too long. That’s the problem. I’m not thinking with my brain-brain, I’m thinking with my lady-brain, which is in my pants.

Focus, Lyla.

I decide Gentry is unavoidably attractive—despite the fact that I don’t like him. Like you could be blind, running your fingers over braille, but still know that man is a meat popsicle.

Did I just use the term meat popsicle?

I loathe myself.

A shower. Yes, a shower.

I need to shower after my run and maybe I can make it a cold one. I don’t like Gentry and he is hot. But he is also…odd. Very odd. He’s friendly, then he cold shoulders me, then he’s friendly again, then…he’s much more than friendly, then cold again.

What the heck?

I pull clothes from my bag, going through the motions without paying attention, lost in thought. Which is probably why, by the end of it, I have two shirts, no pants, a bra, and only one sock but no panties. I need to focus and try this again if I want a full outfit. I collect all the appropriate items for a shower and make my way down the hall, just as I did last night. At least this time I know there are no surprises to be had because no one is in the house.

I feel sort of bad that everyone else is out working on the farm, but they’ve all told me to settle in and there isn’t much arguing with the bunch of them once they decide something. Maybe after my shower, I’ll go back out and offer to help in the store, just a little.

I turn the knobs in the shower and feel the water with the back of my hand. Then, I close my eyes and wait for the perfect temperature, which I make slightly cooler than usual. I step into the tub and underneath the water, letting it run down my body, and I feel all my muscles relax at once.

This shower has a small window in it, looking out over the backyard and beyond. Since it’s on the second floor and only big enough to show someone’s shoulders and head, my grandparents never bothered putting any blurry coating on it; so, I can see everything. I watch the cattle in the distant fields and see some workers in the orchards, picking apples.

I lather up shampoo and start working it through my mess of hair when I spot Gentry talking to someone I don’t recognize. He’s close enough that I can make out most details of his physique. Nothing is lost to the blurring effect of distance. I study his stance, the way he leans, one hand in his pocket, the other pointing somewhere. His shoulders are all business, but still relaxed.

God, he’s delicious and it’s so inconvenient.

How long has it been?

Wait, shut up.

I don’t need to think about that right now. I start rinsing my hair and counting anyway.

Two years.

It’s been two years since I’ve dated anyone. Since anyone has touched me. Except myself. My eyes shoot open.

No, not here. I can’t do that here.

I slide my hands down my neck and pull at the tension in my shoulders.

Although…

Perhaps if I do, it will help me leave behind these thoughts of Gentry.

I listen intently, as if hearing someone downstairs will be of any consequence. I peek out the window and see no one approaching the house. I slide my hands down, over my breasts, pausing to caress them for a few moments. I feel my nipples harden under my touch. My hand explores the skin of my stomach and farther until I part myself. I inhale, a sharp intake, and shut my eyes to concentrate on the sensation I’m creating for myself.

The beauty of masturbation is that you know your body better than anyone else. I stroke up and down, in and out slowly, feeling a climax begin to build. I lean my forehead against the window, pressing my other hand against the glass to steady myself. I can feel myself getting close, so I keep my pace steady, focusing on nothing other than what I’m feeling, then I release against my fingers. When I come, I open my eyes instinctively, releasing the breath I’ve been holding and panting just to regulate again.

I look over the landscape of the farm and then I see him. Gentry is staring up at me. I duck and nearly fall to into the bath tub.

OH MY GOD.

Did he just see my O face?!

NO. No. Surely, just…no.

He must have looked up after…

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